Something There
by NancyMay
Summary: A story inspired by the lyrics from 'Something there' from Beauty and the Beast. A Bill Hobart story, I must be getting desperate! Lines such as 'coarse and unrefined' and 'sweet and almost kind' combined with the story 'Brotherly Love' S1, brought Bill and Deb Cooper to mind. I hope you like it. Rated T, just in case.
1. Chapter 1

Here we go, let's give Bill Hobart a bit of romance! Don't think he's married.

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Sean McBride had to admit he was glad his brothers had come clean about killing the copper, the husband of the woman he'd impregnated. Meeting his baby son, Andrew, that day in the prison had been a shock, he wasn't used to being confronted by any of his illegitimate progeny. He usually had his fun and then abandoned the girls to bring up or have their babies adopted.

He had no love for Deborah Cooper, not proper love, but she had been needy, her husband hadn't provided her with the child she craved, so he'd done the deed, more than once. She had been a bit clingy, he supposed, just in case Cooper threw her over for the affair, if he found out.

He'd been let out of prison and gone to stay with Deb at first, but surrounded by nappies, a whining kid and a woman who wasn't that keen on being with him. She'd only agreed he could go there because everyone seemed to think that was what they should do, be parents to Andrew and try and salvage some sort of family life out of the mess made by his brothers. If Peter had come clean in the first place he'd have been free to go about his cavalier ways with other girls, though he suspected he'd have to have left Ballarat. One thing that really irked him was the constant presence of Sergeant Hobart. He would pop in to see if Deb was ok, and, as Sean was no good with a hammer and nails, he continued to do the little things for Deb that he had done since Clive had died.

'Don't know why you don't leave them to it, Bill.' Lawson had said.

'He's a toe rag, boss.' Bill had replied, 'useless, not bringing in any money, never at home, and never helps with the boy.'

The truth was Bill liked seeing Deb and felt protective towards her. He didn't even blame her for seeking comfort somewhere other than Clive's bed. Clive was a good copper but a bit of a grumpy sod, in his words. He'd often wondered what Deb saw in him.

She always seemed happy to see Bill, telling him one day how trapped she felt. Sean wouldn't marry her, she was talked about in town.

This carried on for some months after Sean was released and Bill asked the rest of the coppers to keep an eye out, not do anything, but let him know if they saw McBride out and about.

'Bill,' Parks caught him one day. He'd just come in from checking the report of some youths in the Botanical Gardens, or more precisely the glasshouses. He hadn't seen anything there but as he'd walked back...,

'McBride.'

'What?' Bill stopped.

Danny pulled him out of sight, 'I saw him in the gardens. Well coming out of the bushes. I ducked out of view and a girl followed him. They were smiling, smoothing their clothes, y'know, as if they'd been up to it.'

Bill narrowed his eyes, 'Bastard!' He hissed.

'Have you seen Deb lately?' Danny asked. 'Maybe she needs something fixing.'

'Right, she needs a new catch on the kitchen window.' Bill had picked one up but not had time to go and fit it. It was in his car.

Bill thanked Danny and left the station. As he drove he wondered how he could broach the subject of Sean possibly being up to his old tricks. He pulled up outside the house, noticing that McBride hadn't even cut the grass. Bill added it to his list of things that Deb might like him to do. He got out and looked around, it was a quiet street, neat and tidy gardens, except for Deb's, she must be embarrassed that they couldn't even keep the lawn tidy. He knocked on the door and waited. Deb never opened the door immediately, she waited behind it until the visitor spoke. He saw her shape through the figured glass and called,

'Deb, it's me, Bill.' The door opened, just a little and she peered round it. 'Hello, love.' He smiled, 'I've got that catch for the kitchen window.'

She opened the door to let him in, keeping her head down and not speaking. At first this didn't surprise him, Deb wasn't a talkative woman, unless she had something to say. He went through to the kitchen and was surprised to see dirty pots in the sink, not like her at all. He'd do something about that shortly, first that window catch. It didn't take him long and when he'd finished he ran water into the sink to wash his hands and the pots at the same time. He left them on the draining board, something wasn't right, more wrong than usual. He went into the small living room where Andrew was playing on the floor. Deb was sitting on the couch, a rather tatty old thing that really needed replacing but that would be way out of her reach. She had trouble paying the phone bill, Bill did that for her, he had insisted and worn her down. It was the only financial help she took from anyone. She just about survived on Clive's pension.

'Right that's done, and I've washed up for you.' He stood looking at her but she wouldn't make eye contact. This was beginning to worry him, that and the fact that she hadn't offered tea, which she always did, if Sean wasn't about, and he obviously wasn't. 'Deb?' He spoke quietly and went closer, she moved her head so he couldn't see her face unless he got down on his knees.

Bill wasn't good with women. He didn't know how to talk to them, how to show his interest. Deb was the only woman he did talk to, and that was only when he was fixing something. But now he had to think, what should he do? He didn't want to frighten her, or do something inappropriate, but he had to do something, and that something was look at her face. He leant down and put his hand gently under her chin, encouraging her to turn to him. He gasped, she had a black eye and the traces of dried blood on her upper lip where her nose had obviously bled. The injury, he surmised, must be about twelve to twenty four hours old, but only a doctor could say for sure, or her, if she'd tell him what had happened.

'Deb?' He crouched down beside her, 'did he do this?'

'He's gone, Bill.' She sniffed, 'packed his bag and went.'

'I'm going to get the doc to look at that eye.' He told her, as he lifted the phone receiver. He dialled the mortuary number and waited, then,

'Doc, it's Hobart.' He waited while Lucien's cheery voice asked what he could do for him, 'could you come over to Deb Cooper's? Black eye, nose bleed.' He waited while Lucien told him he'd be there as soon as possible, Dr Harvey could continue with the autopsy, 'Thanks, doc.' Bill put the receiver down and turned back to Deb. He wanted to kill the bastard, but that wouldn't help her, so he said he'd make a cuppa. He was in the kitchen when Blake arrived. He took Deb a cup of tea and went to let the doctor in.

'Deb, Dr Blake's here.' He said gently. Lucien raised his eyebrows, Bill Hobart, gentle, caring well, who knew? 'While you're here doc, I just need to get something, will you stay until I get back?'

'Yes, of course I will.' Lucien was curious, what was Bill up to? He just hoped he wasn't going to find the man who did this to Deb, there's be nothing left to autopsy if he did.

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Bill drove down into town. He needed two new locks for the doors, a chain, then to the grocers for some milk, which, he noted, he had just used the last of for the tea. The fridge was practically empty but he hadn't checked the pantry, so he settled for getting butter, bacon and bread. He could get more if it was needed, he didn't know what a child of Andrew's age would eat.

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Lucien had looked at Deb's face, checked her eyes and her nose, which wasn't broken and was trying to get her to talk when Bill arrived back. Bill entered through the back door and put his purchases down on the table. He took off his jacket and went into the living room. The doc had Andrew on his knee but Deb just sat staring into space. Lucien turned and looked up,

'Get everything?' He asked, conversationally.

'Yeah, new locks for the doors, and a chain.' He told him, 'Deb, I got you some milk, bread, butter and bacon. Is there anything else?'

Deb looked up at him, her eyes were full of tears. Lucien stood up with the baby and indicated to Bill he should sit down, he knew what was about to happen and he, rightly, assumed that Deb needed Bill more than him. She turned to Bill as he sat, gingerly, next to her and put her head on his chest and let the tears fall with huge choking sobs. Bill looked aghast, now what? Lucien mimed putting his arms round her and Bill raised his eyebrows. Lucien raised his back and gave a slight nod. So Bill did as instructed and felt her relax against him. He too relaxed, it was an awfully long time since he'd held a woman in his arms, but it didn't feel all that strange, he thought. He started to stroke her head and leant his chin on top of it.

Lucien left them and took Andrew into the kitchen to see what food supplies were available. Not much, but he knew where he could get a meal made for them, if she didn't mind.

'Deb, I'm going to take Andrew on an adventure.' He smiled, 'we're going to see Mrs Beazley.'

Deb looked alarmed at this, someone taking her son away.

'It's alright,' Lucien crouched down, 'that's all I'm going to do. Jean'll give him something to eat and drink, and I'll bring him back with something for you, too.'

'Doctor, I can't accept.' She hiccupped, her pride was getting in the way.

'Yes you can.' He said gently, 'and if you insist, perhaps Mrs Beazley can find you something to do to pay her back.' He stood, 'I'll leave you to sort the locks out, Bill. Come on Andrew, let's go and see Mrs Beazley.'

'Doc.' Bill said, his arms still round Deb. He looked at her, what a sad sorry state, but he didn't voice that thought. 'Right, Deb.' He released his hold on her, 'I'm going to change the locks on both doors and put a chain on the front.' He got up and went out of the room, still not sure what was happening.

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Deb listened to Bill unscrewing the locks and dropping bits onto the hall floor, rattling the handle and chain like some benevolent spirit, he whistled tunelessly as he worked. It was the first thing that she had smiled at for some time. She got up. The house was a mess, she had let things slide, fending off Sean's advances took most of her time. She should never have let him into the house, Bill was right the day he'd told Sean to get a job and get his act together. But he hadn't, he'd sat around smoking, which she hated, spending the little money she had on beer and she knew not what, leaving her precious little, just enough to feed her son, she ate what was left, not enough, as the loose waistband of her skirts told her. It had been hard, accepting Bill's payment of the phone bill, but at least it meant she had a life line.

She went into the kitchen and put her apron on. The first thing she did was to wash the tea things and put all the clean pots away, then the few things Bill had bought. Then she cleaned round, putting it to rights, making it much more to her liking. She got a duster just as Bill was coming through to do the kitchen door, she smiled, shyly at him, and went into the living room and started to dust round, plump the cushions and put Andrew's few toys away. There was some laundry on the only other chair in the room that needed ironing so she folded it ready and took it back into the kitchen to be dealt with when Andrew was in bed.

By then time they had finished their tasks Lucien had arrived back with Andrew in Jean's arms, while he carried a casserole dish wrapped in a tea towel. Andrew got an extra strong cuddle from his mother, grateful that the doctor had been true to his word.

'He's had some meat and vegetables, Mrs Cooper,' Jean said, 'it's what's in the dish, mashed up. I hope that's alright.'

'Thank you, Mrs Beazley, that's very kind of you.' Deb smiled, 'he'll eat almost anything.'

'Well, he's at that stage, exploring.' Jean said with the confidence of a mother who knew these things.

'Er, Bill,' Lucien said, Bill was the only one not carrying anything, 'Mrs Beazley says this needs to go back in the oven to keep hot.'

'There's enough for both of you,' Jean said, helpfully.

'Right, doc.' Bill and Deb both coloured at this. He took the pot off the doctor and took it into the kitchen, sliding it into the oven and turning it on. As a bachelor Bill had learned to cook basic 'meat and two veg' meals like his gran had taught him, it was nice to have something cooked by someone else for a change. He knew Mrs Beazley was a good cook, especially her biscuits, which regularly made their way into the office at the station.

'Come on, Doctor Blake.' Jean touched his arm, bravely, 'it's time we were going. I'm sure Mrs Cooper needs to see to Andrew.'

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Well, this was supposed to be a one shot, a whimsical look at a background character in TDBM, and yet again I have gone off on one of my long trails. Should I apologise? Reviews and comments most welcome as always.


	2. Chapter 2 Dear and so unsure

Bill and Deb washed up their plates and the dish that Mrs Beazley had sent their meal in. They hadn't spoken much at dinner, but Deb had told him that she had been unhappy with Sean living there, and although they had shared a bed she hadn't let him touch her. In the end he had slept on the couch, the other room being occupied by Andrew. Bill had said that was none of his business.

'I knew he was up to his old tricks,' she whispered, 'I saw him in the park, yesterday, but I knew before. That's when I told him to get out.' Deb looked up at Bill, a flash of defiance in her eyes.

'Good for you.' Bill applauded her, 'he added nothing, did he?'

'No, but that was when he hit me.' Deb looked down at her plate.

'If I could get my hands on him...' Bill grunted.

'No, Bill.' She stopped him, 'he's gone, that's good enough for me. Leave that to someone else.' She whispered.

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'I'll take this back to Mrs Beazley,' Bill said as he left the house.

'Thank you, Bill.' She stood on tiptoe and lightly kissed his cheek, 'for everything.'

Bill coloured, he coughed, cleared his throat, 'Yes, well, family.'

She smiled as he turned and went down the path, 'Daft sod.' She closed the door and slipped the chain on, as he had told her to.

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Deb locked the kitchen door and turned out the lights downstairs, heading to bed. She checked Andrew, fast asleep, flat on his back with his arms flung above his head. She smiled, so sweet, the best thing that had come out of this whole rotten mess. Clive had not been the husband she had envisaged. He'd become cold, distant when she didn't conceive. Sean had flattered her and she had allowed her heart to rule her head. Clive had found out and gone in to sort Sean out and, oh, it had all gone horribly wrong! Bill had confessed he wasn't where he should have been and had blamed himself for Clive's death, but she had told him if anyone was to blame it was her. If she hadn't gone with Sean, if she'd accepted, if they'd accepted they wouldn't have children then none of it would have happened. True she'd have been stuck in a loveless marriage but at least he would have been alive. Now she had to make the best of it and bring up Andrew, hoping he wouldn't make the same mistakes. She had no idea what the future held but if she had Bill's friendship then it wouldn't be too bad. She would find work of sorts that would fit round Andrew, perhaps take in ironing or sewing.

She slipped between the covers, noticing the darns needed re darning and there was a seam that needed repairing in a pillowcase, nothing she couldn't sort out tomorrow. For the first time for a long time Deborah Cooper slept deeply without the worry that someone would hurt her.

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Bill pulled up outside his home. It was a flat, fashioned from a large house that had been converted. He had the ground floor. A living/dining room with a kitchenette off to one side. A small bathroom and a bedroom. Not much to show for a lifetime's service in the force. Plainly and sparsely furnished, no nick-knacks or fripperies, one ancient photograph of his parents and one of his graduation. He sighed, even the chaos of Deb's house was more inviting than this place. He'd never thought of it before, but recently, after he'd visited Deb he would find the place almost depressing.

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He lay in bed wondering about her, nah, he was far too old to even think about going down that line, too old for her, too set in his ways, and her with a kid too, what would he do with Andrew? He thumped the pillow and tried to get some sleep.

Deb insisted on intruding on his dreams. First her black eye, then her tears and the feel of her against his chest. Her smile, timid, hesitant, that fleeting, soft kiss. There was nothing in it, he told himself when he woke up, she was just being friendly A pretty young lass like her would never look at a grumpy old git like him.

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Not knowing whether Blake would be around the station, Bill took the dish back to his house, and Deb had said that if he saw Mrs Beazley he was to thank her again. He could kill two bird with one stone, that way.

He heard Mrs Beazley's voice when he knocked at the door, he was quite grateful it was her that answered, Blake was likely to make some remark about him and Deb.

'Morning Sergeant Hobart,' she smiled.

'Good morning, Mrs Beazley.' he smiled back, wondering how she could be so cheerful when she had to put up with Blake's unreliable ways, 'Brought your dish back, and Deb says thanks again. We both enjoyed it.'

'You're welcome, Sergeant.' She took the dish, 'tell Mrs Cooper if she needs any more help just let me know. It's not easy bringing up a child alone.'

'No, don't suppose it is.' He sighed, 'anyway, best get on.'

'Bye.' Jean waved as he drove away and smiled to herself. Grumpy and a bit quick with his fists he may be, but if a friend was in trouble you could always rely on Bill Hobart.

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Knowing that Bill had looked after Deb the previous day, Matthew Lawson had told his men that if they teased him they could deal with the consequences and that included Blake, who tried to look innocent. Actually, Blake agreed with him, Bill had been supportive and kind to the young widow and if it brought a smile to Bill's face then he was all for it.

Bill was prepared to ignore any comments he may get as he entered the office but all he did get was a 'Mornin' Hobart,' and a 'Bill' accompanied by a nod and inwardly he sighed with relief.

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Deb stretched and yawned as she heard Andrew start his early morning calls. She smiled and went to get him thinking that her life was definitely improving since Sean had left, at least she hoped it was. She took him downstairs and made herself a cup of tea and him a drink of milk and they sat together in the living room. She was lucky, Andrew was an easy baby, as long as he was fed and clean he was happy to play on the floor while she did her chores. She looked around at what she had to do that day. The ironing hadn't been done, dinner with Bill had taken longer than if she had been on her own, so that had to be done. She needed to beat the rugs, her vacuum cleaner had died long ago so she swept and beat instead. She could do all those things first then go into the market for some vegetables. She had a little bit of money left and if she went towards the latter half of the day she could pick up some bargains. It was also an easy way to avoid the gossips who would have gone early in the day to get the best and freshest produce.

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She put the freshly ironed laundry in the cupboard and took the rugs out into the garden and flung them over the washing line. She put Andrew in the pram and out of the way of the flying dust and used the broom handle to beat the carpets. It was exhausting work but she felt a certain sense of satisfaction when she had finished. She decided they could stay on the line while she had a bacon sandwich for lunch and gave Andrew the remains of last night's dinner she had purposely kept back for him. She had to admit Jean Beazley was a very good cook.

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She was grateful the market was relatively quiet when she got there. She had disguised the black eye with makeup as best she could and pulled her hair round to the side to cover up some of the bruise. She found the produce stall she frequented the most and perused the offerings. She could afford some potatoes, along with a selection of other vegetables just past their best, and a little fruit for Andrew. She had just paid and was loading her purchases onto the pram when she heard the first of the murmurings. Comments about her black eye, 'serves her right,' 'fancy being out in public like that,' 'no better than she should be.' She stiffened but refused to turn round until she was tapped on the shoulder. Ready to snap at whoever she relaxed as she turned her head, it was Mrs Beazley.

'Hello, Mrs Cooper,' Jean smiled, 'thank you for sending the dish back. How are you today?'

'Mrs Beazley,' she sighed audibly, 'I'm glad it got back to you. I'm not too bad, how are you?'

'Very well thank you.' Jean leant in and whispered, 'ignore them.' Then louder, 'I've got a recipe you might like that will make those veggies go further.' They moved away from the gossips who were now going to start on Jean Beazley who, horror of horrors, shared a house with a single man!

Jean continued her advice, giving the recipe for a thick soup full of veggies and pearl barley, suggesting that if she could get a ham hock it would make it extra tasty. It was something Jean had made when times were tight after Christopher had been killed.

Mentally calculating how much money she had left she decided that Jean's idea was do-able and thanked her for the recipe. They walked towards the butcher's where Jean left her and headed to the baker's.

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Deb had had a peaceful few days, no visitors, just her and Andrew. She had tried to cut the grass but the mower was heavy and the blades just seemed to pull the grass up rather than cut it. She wondered if Bill would be round any time soon, it was blatantly obvious the neighbours weren't going to help, she'd seen them watch and even if one of the husbands around had offered to help they would have been dragged back by their suspicious wives. Sometimes she wished she could move. She left it, trying to take Mrs Beazley's advice and ignore them. She got the inside of the house tidy and clean and had found an old patchwork cover and had put it over the couch, making it look more inviting, even though it wasn't much more comfortable. She darned the covers in her bedroom and repaired the pillow case, actually enjoying these mundane tasks.

She had just made herself a cup of tea and Andrew was asleep in his pram in the back garden when there was a knock at the door. As usual she stood waiting for the visitor to announce themselves.

'Deb, it's me.' Bill's unmistakable voice. She smiled and he heard her slip the chain and unlock the door.

'Hello, Bill.' She stepped aside to let him in.

'How's things?' He asked noticing the hall was sparkling.

'Not bad, quiet, just how I like it.' She smiled at him, still shy, which she chided herself for.

'I've got this afternoon and tomorrow off, thought you might like the grass cutting.' He smiled.

'Oh, Bill,' she almost gasped, 'you must be a mind reader. I've tried but the mower seems to pull the grass up instead of cutting it.'

'Blades are probably blunt.' he suggested, 'I'll take a look.'

He wandered through to the back garden, 'By the way, I've got you a new lock for the back gate.'

'I must pay you for these things you get for me, Bill.' She looked up at him, 'it's not right you should do all this for me.'

'No you won't.' He stopped her and put his hand on her arm, 'I've no one else to spend my money on.'

'Well, at least let me feed you.' She gave up, she'd had this conversation with him before and lost, 'Mrs Beazley's given me a recipe you might like.'

'Oh, when did you see her?' He was surprised, had Jean been round? the house was certainly up to her standards.

'In the market the other day,' She told him how Jean had helped her ignore the gossips.

'Not surprising,' He admitted, 'she gets it for being a live-in housekeeper to a single man.'

'Typical.'

Bill smiled and went out to the shed, also in need of repair. He looked over the mower, the blades were indeed dull and it needed oiling, but it was nothing he couldn't sort out. It took him longer than he anticipated but he managed to get the mower working properly and cut the front lawn, tidying the edges and leaving it looking smarter. That'd stop the neighbours, he hoped. The back garden needed doing but it was late afternoon now and it would be a longer job than the front. He could do that tomorrow, if Deb didn't mind. He wanted to get the lock on the back gate, he still wasn't sure McBride wouldn't turn up. He hadn't been seen around town, the men still kept a look out. In fact there were no McBrides about. Xavier had lost his parish and had had to leave the church, and Peter's wife and children had moved with him to another state, unable to stand the talk, the turned backs and the children were getting a hard time at school.

'Tea, Bill.' Deb called from the back door.

'Ta.' He said accepting the welcome mug. 'I'll do the back tomorrow, if you like.' He leant against the wall, the garden needed more than the grass cutting, she would need it turning into a safe place for Andrew to play in. That was probably all he knew about children, he'd enjoyed playing in the garden when he was a boy, usually soccer with his dad.

'That's very kind of you.' She replied, quietly, watching him sip his tea and stare out over the tufts of grass and the messy borders.

'I like gardening.' He muttered. 'I used to do it with dad, when I was a kid.'

'I'm not much of a gardener, but, if the mower's working I can cut the grass.'

'Hmm.' was all that Bill could offer to that.

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A slow burner this one. Thanks for all the reviews, very surprising comments and complimentary too. x


	3. Chapter 3 New and a bit alarming

I've had some lovely reviews for this story, I had no idea it would be so well received. Thank you.

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Bill and Deb Cooper settled into some kind of routine. He went round once a week on his day off, to do the garden and she cooked him a meal. Then one day she mentioned it was Andrew's first birthday and she didn't know where the last year had gone.

'Perhaps we'd better mark the occasion,' he scratched his head. A one year old was a bit too young, he thought, to know what birthdays were.

'Mmm...' she mused, 'not a party, he doesn't know any children here, maybe just us and a picnic in the park?'

'Ok,' he thought he could handle that. 'I'll drive us down, shall I?'

It was well within walking distance but they had already had to fend off talk and to be seen together walking with the pram would be fuel for the gossips.

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It had all really started when Bill was cutting the small front lawn one Saturday. It must have been a month since he started being a regular in the small road Deb called home. That is more regular than he used to be. Other men were cutting their lawns overseen, in some cases, by their wives. Bill was likely to ignore them after an amiable nod in someone's direction and get on with mowing. Next door wasn't so subtle one day. She whispered to her husband something about 'that sort of girl', intimating Deb was easy and possibly on the game!

Bill turned round, that, he was not going to take. The girl had made mistakes, that they both admitted, but never, ever had Deb been 'on the game'.

'Sorry,' he said, politely, 'did you say something?'

'My wife was just commenting how good it is of you to do Mrs Cooper's garden.' The woman's husband hastily stepped in before his wife could say anything else.

'Well, as none of the neighbours have volunteered...' Bill said, 'for a fellow officer's family, y'know.' He turned back and continued putting beautiful stripes in the grass, making sure it would look better than theirs, smiling wickedly to himself.

He could see them whispering again, the man appeared to be remonstrating with his wife about what she had said. She was waving her hands in his direction and looking really sour.

Bill didn't know what their problem was; it wasn't as if he stayed overnight, or they indulged in passionate kissing on the doorstep. All he did was come over, mow the grass and she 'paid' him with a meal. She occasionally kissed his cheek. Some people's lives must be so small they had to interfere in others. He kept his fists to himself but warned Deb about it. She said it was alright, she had ignored it so far, but if it got too much or too acid she'd let him know.

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Andrew's birthday was a bright and sunny day. Bill was going to pick them up around midday and they'd go and have their picnic, which Deb was putting together.

Andrew was just about walking, Bill had said he looked drunk and Deb had laughed, agreeing it was more of a stagger than an walk. Bill thought he ought to get him a present, even though the little chap didn't understand, and a small ball would probably be a good idea. He found one in a small toyshop in Ballarat. Bright blue, easily found in the bushes or long grass.

'Oh, Bill!' Deb laughed, 'how sweet of you.'

'Well a lad needs ball, doesn't he?' Bill questioned.

'He certainly does.'

As they loaded the car Bill noticed the curtains twitching across the road, he scowled and the curtain was quickly dropped.

'You having trouble with the neighbours, Deb?' He asked as they drove off.

'Curtains twitching?' She asked and when he nodded, she confirmed it. 'She's an evil old woman. No husband, never married, constantly looks like she has a bad smell under her nose.'

'What would she do if we really gave her something to talk about?'

'You offering?' She laughed.

Bill didn't answer that, because he wasn't sure if he was or not. But whatever, he didn't want Deb to bear the brunt of malicious gossip. She had become lighter lately, much happier and he liked to see her smile, he didn't want the smile to go just because someone had nothing else to do but police the comings and goings of a young widow and her much older friend, who happened to be male.

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They had found a lovely secluded spot to have the picnic. Andrew rolled the ball around having found that if he tried to kick it, like Uncle Bill had done, he fell over. So he rolled it and crawled after it, giggling with delight. Deb and Bill watched him, smiling and trying to tempt him with small sandwiches and fruit. Bill teased him, holding the ball out of reach and offering him an egg sandwich.

'Sandwich first, then ball, Andrew.' He said with mock severity. Andrew stuck his lower lip out but took the sandwich and ate it. 'Ok, mate, here's your ball.' And Bill rolled it across the blanket.

Deb watched and smiled, Bill didn't know how good he was with her son, probably better than Clive would have been and definitely better than Sean. Bill treated him like a mate, never did the baby talk thing, which she hated anyway, didn't fawn or fuss over him. Just natural. Bill noticed her smile and coloured a little. He'd become used to the little fella, which surprised him greatly.

They had finished the food and drained the flask of tea, and Andrew was asleep on Bill's stomach, where he'd crawled as Bill leant against a tree. Deb was leaning against Bill her eyes closed against the sun. Bill thought it was really quite a special moment, for him, anyway.

'Bill Hobart, ' he thought, 'you're getting soft,' not wanting to move.

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They pulled up outside the house. Deb went to get out of the car when Bill put his hand on her arm.

'Wait here.' He got out of the car and Deb's eyes followed him up the path. He put his hand against the garden gate; it swung open. In the car, Deb put her hand over her mouth, she had locked it, she knew she had. It had become a habit to lock the doors and leave by the back gate, locking it as she did so. She looked around, instantly on her guard. Thinking she saw a movement over the road she leant over to the driver's door and pushed the button down to lock it, then locked her door. Andrew was held against her, tightly now.

Bill came back and motioned to her to open her door.

'You ok?' He asked, seeing fear in her eyes.

'Yes, I think so.' She looked directly at him, 'did I forget to lock the gate?'

'No, sorry. It's been kicked in.' He squeezed her arm. 'I can't see anything. I've checked the shed and all the windows and the door are ok.' He offered her his hand to get out of the car, noting she looked worried.

'Come on, lass.' He smiled reassuringly, 'let's get you two inside.'

Bill left Deb dealing with Andrew and went to get the picnic things out of the car, all the while scanning the surroundings. He was sure Sean was back, who else would try to get into the house?

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Between them they tidied up, washed the things they had used and prepared an evening meal. Deb said she'd get Andrew into bed and then they could eat in peace.

'Thank you for coming with us.' She said softly as they sat over their food. 'It was a lovely day.'

'I enjoyed it.' He admitted and smiled.

'Bill,' she whispered, 'about the gate...I'm scared.' She took a deep breath, 'would you stay tonight.' She looked shy, almost frightened he'd say 'no'.

'You sure?' He said, 'you know it'll cause talk.'

'I'd rather be alive and talked about than dead and not.' She said, she really believed that if Sean were back he would kill her, this time. After all he had threatened her.

'Mmm, suppose you're right.' He stood up, 'let's get these things washed, eh?'

She relaxed and they washed up and she made some tea. She apologised for not keeping beer or whisky in, it was just that she didn't drink and anyway...

'You've got better things to spend your money on, lass. If I want drink I'll bring my own.' He grinned, so sweet of her to think of him when she was worried she was going to be murdered in her bed.

They sat listening to the radio, she leant back against him and he found his arm slipping round her shoulders. At some point he noticed her head nod, she must be tired, he thought. He looked down, just in time to see her yawn, or bored.

'Time you turned in, Deb.' He said softly.

'I'll take the couch,' she offered.

'Don't be daft.' He laughed, 'I'll take the couch, I want you upstairs. You'll be safer up there than down here, **if** anything happens.'

'But...' she thought the couch would be too short for him and she also knew it was uncomfortable.

'No arguments,' they were standing now.

'As you wish, Senior Sergeant.' She smiled and looked up at him and then impulsively wrapped her arms round him and felt his arms round her.

'Thank you Bill.' Neither moved then Bill bent down and kissed her forehead. She smiled, then reached up and kissed his lips. She loosened her grip,

'Goodnight, Bill Hobart.' She whispered.

He just stood there gaping, Deborah Cooper had just kissed him, and not as a friend. He sat down suddenly on the lumpy couch, scratching the back of his head.

'Bloody hell,' he thought, 'did she..., bugger, he was a bit too old for this, but if she did, did he?' He slumped back against the back of the couch, 'he wouldn't mind,' that much he was sure of, 'she was sweet, pretty. Good cook, kept a nice clean house. Then there was Andrew. Could he be a father to the lad? Now he was getting ahead of himself. Put the brakes on Bill,' he told himself, 'it was a kiss, just a kiss.'

He dozed on the couch, still thinking, which didn't help.

'William Hobart,' he told himself, 'you can't give a lass like that what she needs. It's been too long since you were with a woman, and look how that went. You don't want that to happen again, laughed out of the bedroom, doesn't do a bloke's pride any good'. But then, according to any girl he'd been with, not too many he reminded himself, just tried to sow a few wild oats, he'd not been much good in that department. He was brought out of his reverie by the sound of scratching at the front door.

He went and stood in the hall, his shoeless feet making no sound. He put his ear against the door and listened, something was definitely going on on the other side of the door. He left the hall and went into the kitchen and unlocked the kitchen door. Tiptoeing outside in his stocking feet he looked through the gate. In the moonlight he could see a figure, appearing to paint something on the door. So engrossed was the 'artist' he didn't see Bill sneak up behind him and grab him by the scruff of the neck. He whirled him round and slammed him into the door.

'Sean McBride.' Bill snarled, 'what stone did you crawl out from under?'

Sean's eyes were wide with fear, Hobart had a reputation.

'Bill?' Deb appeared by the gate, the sound of Sean being slammed against the door had woken her.

'Ring the station, Deb,' Bill said, 'tell them you have an intruder on the premises and that I'm already here.'

She disappeared back into the house and did as he had told her. Sergeant Davies was on duty and said he'd be down right away.

'Sergeant Davies is on his way, Bill.' She stood nearer this time.

Sean looked her up and down, 'you who...' Bill thumped him, 'don't you speak to her like that you little shit.' He turned to Deb, 'Sorry, Deb.'

'S'ok, Bill.' She smiled, 'I've heard worse.'

'Go back inside, lass.' Bill said gently. 'I'll wait for Davies.'

'Gettin' it are you, copper.' Sean hissed meanly, which earned him another thump, resulting in him losing a tooth.

Davies turned up just then, knowing how Bill was when someone hurt a friend.

'Sergeant Hobart, nice day off?' He asked cheerily.

'Not bad at all, Davies, all quiet at the nick?' He answered brightly.

'Yeah, could do with some company.' Davies slapped handcuffs on McBride, 'what's the charge, Bill?'

'Er let's see, how about trespass, vandalism, insulting language, just being a little toe rag.' Bill suggested.

'Right oh.' Davies propelled his prisoner to the car, 'statements in the morning, Bill.' He called over his shoulder.

'Will do.' Bill watched them go and then looked at the door. He couldn't leave that there, not for Deb to see or the street. Sean hadn't finished his art work he'd managed the 'W' 'H' and 'O' but the 'R' was unfinished and the 'E' missing.

He strode back to the house.

'Torch, please, Deb.' He asked as she stood by the door, shivering in her pyjamas and robe.

She did as asked, wondering what he was going to do. She watched him go to the shed and bring out the tin of paint Mc Bride had loaded his brush with. There was no chance he'd get the paint off so if he painted the whole door the same colour, a deep red, then no one would know, it was a job on his list anyway. It'd be dry by morning, he hoped. He took a brush and went back to the front door.

'Deb, unlock the door, but leave the chain on. Don't want it to stick closed, do we.' He winked at her and she smiled back.

He painted the door quite quickly, figuring he could tidy up the edges in the morning then went back into the house where Deb was sitting in the darkened living room. He looked at her then went into the hall where he positioned the pram so it would hold the door open but create an obstacle to any other intruders.

Back in the living room Deb was sitting staring into space.

'Deb?' Bill spoke quietly, 'you ok?'

She turned and looked at him and smiled. 'Yes Bill, but...' she hesitated and stood up in front of him, 'could you do something for me?'

'If I can?' He wondered what she was up to.

Standing right in front of him she put her hands flat on his chest, 'Kiss me, Bill, properly.'

His eyebrows flew up into his hairline and he just stood there looking down on her so she supposed she would have to lead the way, for a change.

She slid her arms round him and lifted herself up to the right level to touch her lips to his. His arms seemed to have lives of their own and he found them wrapped around her pulling her close and responding to her kiss which became long and deep as they relished the taste of each other and he the feel of her breasts against his chest.

They broke off and stood staring at each other. She leant forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

'Goodnight, Bill.' She whispered and left him standing wide eyed and open mouthed.

'Bloody hell!' He whispered.

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Oo-er! Now where do I go from here?

Again, thank you for all the reviews, who knew a romance for Bill Hobart would be welcomed so enthusiastically?


	4. Chapter 4 Who'd have ever thought

Bill dozed on and off, well more off really, for the rest of the night. Was Deb really that interested in him? The kiss had been unexpected and pretty darn good, for him, he hoped for her too. She smelt good too, a kind of sleepy sweetness. But still in the back if his mind were the disappointing times he'd had with women, none of whom had been as special as her. Perhaps that was where it had gone wrong in the past, perhaps his courtships should have been longer, got to know the woman as a person, not an object, something to be bedded. If this was leading somewhere he worried he'd disappoint her too. Bill had been brought up to be a man's man, women were there to cook, clean, iron and open their legs. That wasn't Deb; she was different, meant to be loved but he wasn't sure he could be the man for her.

He heard her come down the stairs with Andrew. She smiled as she came into the room, her hair tousled her robe unfastened showing her pyjamas, a pale blue.

'Morning, Bill,' She greeted him with a kiss. 'Ooh, you need a shave, or grow a beard.' She teased and went into the kitchen to make tea and give the baby his milk.

'Er, morning,' he replied to her disappearing back. He blinked, what was all the kissing for? Not that he was complaining, in fact he decided right there and then to stop thinking too hard and just let things flow.

'Tea!' she called from the kitchen and he stood up trying to smooth out his hair.

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Bill returned to Deb's later after going home to shower and change, and shave! He'd asked if she needed anything, he must be eating her out of house and home, he joked. Deb had looked in her purse and Bill had put his hand over it. 'Milk, bread, ..?' He asked.

She'd looked embarrassed but admitted milk and bread was needed. Bill looked in the pantry and fridge and saw gaps he could fill and this time he kissed her as he left.

She touched her cheek and smiled, now he was getting it. She had thought long and hard about Bill Hobart. First and foremost in her mind he was a friend, a very good and kind friend who had never asked for anything in return for that friendship. He was steady, defended her against the sniping and gossips, protected her from the likes of Sean McBride. You couldn't call him handsome, but he was personable. He hadn't taken the first opportunity to leap on her and drag her off to bed, in fact he'd kept his hands very much to himself. A gentleman. Yes, she decided, Senior Sergeant Bill Hobart was a gentleman.

Bill knocked on the front door and waited for Deb to let him in. He had shopped for what was needed, including a new lock for the back gate. Apart from that little job he had to get Deb down to the station to give her statement as to what she had seen the previous night. Gate first, he decided.

The gate seen to, Bill and Deb sat down for a quick cuppa before heading down to the station. Deb left Bill in the kitchen with Andrew on his knee while she went up to make herself, as she put it, presentable. She was more than presentable when she came down and he told her so. She smiled, thanked him and took Andrew from him.

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Down at the station Matthew took Bill's statement. Bill admitted he'd belted McBride. Both times because he had been insulting about Mrs Cooper. Apart from that he told him exactly what had happened, why he had been there and what McBride had said.

Charlie took Deb's statement. She told him she heard a bang at the front door, so she got up and put her robe on before going down to find out what was going on. Bill was not on the couch and the kitchen door was open. She went out of the back door and looked through the broken back gate. Bill had Sean against the front door by his collar. Bill had told her to ring the station which she did then she went back outside to let Bill know that Sergeant Davies, 'you, were on your way down.' Sean started to call her a name, which she was too embarrassed to repeat, and Bill hit him to shut him up.

'Why did Sergeant Hobart stay the night, if you don't mind me asking?' Charlie asked, thinking he was treading on thin ice.

'When we got back from the park the back gate had been kicked in. We were sure it was Sean so I asked Bill to stay.' She lowered her head, 'I told him I was scared. Scared Sean would come back and try to hurt me, again.'

'I didn't know he had hurt you before.' Charlie said, 'was it reported?'

'No, it was the day I told him to pack his bag and leave.' She told him what had happened and how Dr Blake had seen to the black eye and that was when Bill changed the locks.

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Down in the cells Lucien had pronounced McBride well enough to answer questions. He sat in on the interview with Matthew after Bill and Deb had gone home. McBride was surly and uncooperative at first until Matthew suggested he bring Sergeant Hobart back to conduct the interview.

'Now!' He shouted, 'talk!'

'Yeah I came back.' Sean grunted, 'where else am I gonna go?'

'Try back under the rock you crawled out from.' Matthew suggested. 'What makes you think Mrs Cooper would want you back?'

'She's got my kid.' Sean said.

'So, all of a sudden you want to be a father, should have thought about that before.' Matthew's face was inches away from the younger man, 'Andrew's better off without you.'

'So he can have her.' Sean nodded towards the door, meaning Hobart, 'ba...'

But he didn't finish word, Matthew backhanded him off the chair. 'Don't you talk about my officer like that. He's worth a hundred of you.'

'I think we're done here,' Lucien said, 'tale him back to the cells, Ned.' He looked at Ned Simmons standing there, unconcerned at what he'd witnessed. He reckoned McBride had got off lightly.

'Doc.' Ned acknowledged, politely.

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'So, now what, Matthew?' Lucien asked. 'What can you charge him with?'

'Well, trespass, for a start and vandalism.' Matthew leant back in his chair. 'Also assault, you confirm he hit her, giving her a black eye and a bloody nose?'

'Well that's what I treated her for. She said it was McBride.' Lucien admitted, 'no reason to disbelieve her.'

'Good enough for me,' Matthew picked up the paperwork and headed out of the room.

'You could always ask him.' Lucien called after him, 'you haven't yet.'

Matthew waved the file at him, over his shoulder and headed in the direction of the cells. Damn the doctor! He was right.

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Mc Bride was sitting on the bed in the cell, contemplating his fists.

'McBride!' Matthew's voice made him jump. 'Did you hit Deborah Cooper, when she told you to pack your bag?'

'What of it?' McBride snapped. He was really trying Lawson's patience, Matthew didn't like women beaters.

'Well?' Matthew glowered at him.

'Yeah.' He grunted, not looking at the superintendant.

Matthew turned on his heel, 'Who's the bastard, now? ' he muttered under his breath.

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'So,' Deb said, leaning against Bill's shoulder as they sat on the couch. Andrew was in bed, they had the evening to themselves, 'what happens now?'

'He'll go to trial, Bendigo probably.' Bill shifted and put his arm round her, 'if convicted, which he will be, short term in jail.'

'Will I ever be shot of him?' She asked, sadly.

'Yeah, he'll stay away now.' Bill assured her, 'now he knows we're on to him.' He kissed the top of her head, almost absentmindedly.

She smiled and wriggled closer. 'Bill,' she whispered, 'does this have to end?'

'Hmm?' Did it? He wondered.

'Do you want it to?' He asked.

'No, no I don't.' She smiled, sweetly, up at him. 'Do you?'

He smiled, after all his heart searching, his wondering if someone as sweet as Deb could ever be interested in this grumpy old git of a copper, his only answer was to lean in and kiss her, passionately.

When they broke apart, 'I'll take that as a no, then.' She giggled. 'Better give you a key.' She added cheekily.

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Now I could go one chapter more but...


	5. Chapter 5 Just my Bill

Somehow, even though this story was originally inspired by 'Something There' from 'Beauty and the Beast' as I was writing this chapter this song from 'Showboat' came to mind. I think the words describe Bill Hobart rather well.

 _'He's just my Bill an ordinary man_

 _He hasn't got a thing that I can brag about..._

 _...Oh, I can't explain_

 _It's surely not his brain_

 _That makes me thrill_

 _I love him because he's, I don't know_

 _Because he's just my Bill.'_

 _Oscar Hammerstein II_

 _Showboat 1927_

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'I'm sure Andrew and I will get on fine,' Jean said as she took the child off Deborah Cooper. 'You don't want to worry about him while you're in Bendigo.'

'It's really very kind of you, Mrs Beazley.' Deb smiled, 'he's into everything, though, so...'

'He'll be fine.' Jean assured her, 'Now go, or you'll be late.'

'Thank you again.' Deb kissed her son, 'be a good boy Andrew, mummy'll be back soon.'

'Deb!' Bill called from the car, 'we need to be getting going.'

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The road was clear and they made good time. Deb had been quiet, she had never left Andrew with anyone before, not for a whole day, but Bill had been right; they couldn't possibly have a toddler with them at the Law Courts while they testified in Sean McBride's case. It had been Dr Blake's idea that Jean should babysit and she had been more than happy to oblige. Deb would be glad when it was all over. The wait for the court date had been seemingly interminable, but it was only a couple of months.

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Bill and Deb's routine was now even more settled. He spent his off duty hours there, letting himself in via the back door thanks to the keys Deb had given him. He would take groceries, do the garden and little jobs around the house. They became the subject of tittle-tattle around the close area she lived in but they knew that there was no truth in it. Bill never stayed overnight, they were not seen kissing, they confined that to the living room or the hall as he was leaving each day.

Their friendship had deepened into love. Bill was still amazed that she wanted him as anything other than a friend, and even though she had made the first move he was happy to go wherever it led.

Deb was happy to let Bill take his time with their courtship. She had a feeling he was new to this, despite his age. He was very much a 'masculine' man, in that he did all the fixing and gardening, things that her father had done, but unlike her father, husband and Sean; she refused to refer to the last as her lover; he also would help with the washing up, cook occasionally and made a good job of ironing, if his shirts were anything to go by. He would play with Andrew and the blue ball in the garden and was perfectly at ease with him. He'd admitted he got some teasing down at the station, but not as much as he'd feared.

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'Now Andrew's more steady on his feet we need to do something about the garden.' Bill suggested one evening as they sat on the couch 'listening' to the radio. 'The grass is ok but the borders need sorting.'

Deb smiled into his chest. There were sometimes she wished he'd just stop thinking about the jobs around the house and kiss her. But that was Bill, and deep down that was what she liked about being with him, his totally natural way of being just Bill, even when he was supposed to be courting!

'Tomorrow.' She murmured and tipped her head up to him. He looked down at her and smiled, he supposed she was right, and kissed her. Then, just for a change, and, to be quite adventurous for him, he lifted her onto his knee and held her tight. She pulled back and looked at him, grinning, then she wriggled.

Bill raised his eyebrows recognising something he tried not to think about. If they were going to go that far it would be with his gold band on her finger, and not before. Not that he was particularly catholic in his thinking, but he was not going to give any truth to the rumours or put her in the position of having to get married, maybe. Now that was a thought; what if..?

'Am I going a bit fast for you, dear?' She giggled, cheekily.

'I'm just an old-fashioned man, Deb.' He replied, a twinkle in his eye, 'I would prefer things to be done in the proper order.'

'Hmm...' she mused, was that his version of a proposal? '...and what way would that be, my dear Bill?'

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Bill had to admit he was somewhat embarrassed, standing in the jeweller's looking at engagement rings with Deborah Cooper. She had said she wasn't bothered about a ring, but he insisted. Do things right, he said. Not a long engagement, though, she'd replied.

She chose a single diamond, not big or ostentatious, she wasn't keen on showy jewellery and rarely wore anything other than her wedding ring.

'You sure that's the one you want?' He asked.

'Absolutely.' She smiled up at him.

'Would you like to try it on?' The jeweller asked.

'It would be an idea, wouldn't it?' She said and slipped her wedding ring off and put it in her pocket. She wouldn't be putting it back on. The ring fitted nicely and it was purchased alongside two wedding rings. She had asked Bill if he minded wearing one, for her. Considering he'd never even envisaged getting married, to have a woman claim him as her own, you bet he'd wear a ring!

They weren't going to tell anyone they were getting married. They had decided they would time their wedding to coincide with his leave after Sean's trial.

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The trial took all day. Deb had been embarrassed at having to say what McBride was painting on her front door. She had given her evidence clearly and precisely, Bill had told her just to answer the questions as they were put to her, not to add any of her opinions. Even when cross examined she did not stray from the statement she had given to Charlie.

Bill was questioned as to his relationship with Mrs Cooper, as well as the events of the night in question. He admitted he had struck McBride, but only in defence of Mrs Cooper, who, at the time, was a friend and the widow of a fellow officer. Yes, he had confirmed, he knew the defendant had struck Mrs Cooper sometime prior to the incident, he had seen her that day and witnessed the injury. He didn't offer anything to defence when he was cross-examined either. Just answered the questions.

Lucien was called as a witness to Deb's black eye and bloody nose, but other than that he had nothing else to offer.

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Somehow they had managed to keep their engagement a secret, even from Dr Blake. She had worn her old wedding ring for the trial and Blake hadn't been in the court when Bill had had to admit he was now engaged to Mrs Cooper. When they picked Andrew up from Mrs Beazley she had insisted they stay for dinner, Deb would not want to have to start cooking after such a long day. Deb and Bill both agreed it would be easier, even if they got fish and chips she would still have to wash up. Just to be able to take the child home and put him to bed would be so much easier.

Jean had a feeling about the relationship, but it was a feeling she wouldn't share with Lucien, or Mattie. They would tell when they were ready.

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With Sean sent to prison for six months for the two charges, Deb and Bill could now look forward instead of backwards and over their shoulders.

Before they actually married they had to decide what to do about accommodation. Her little house was big enough for the two of them, his flat wasn't, but they wanted something that was just theirs. They decided to rent Bill's flat out. They thought of selling but why not use it to create extra income, perhaps a police officer would have a use for it. They, that is Bill, would give it a fresh lick of paint, give it a good clean and then, when they returned from their holiday; you couldn't call it a honeymoon, not with a toddler with them; they could come clean and offer it to the letting market or to someone who might need a small flat for a while.

Bill would move into her house when they came back, but they would look to buying another house and sell hers. Deb said she was looking forward to scandalising the neighbours! At which Bill just raised his eyebrows, then laughed, why not?

They had settled on marrying in Geelong and Bill had arranged it with the Registrar over the phone and the Registrar said he would arrange two witnesses. In order to get there in time they would have to leave early in the morning, but they were both early risers so that wasn't a problem.

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Deb came out of the ladies room, having changed into a smart, pale blue outfit, a two piece with a full skirt and neat fitted jacket. She had a matching pill box hat and white gloves. Andrew was in her arms, his navy trousers and white shirt complementing her ensemble.

Bill was waiting for her, in uniform, smart and upright. His hat tucked under his arm.

Watched by the two witnesses, office staff from the Town Hall, Senior Sergeant William Hobart took Deborah Cooper to be his wedded wife. Even as he kissed his bride he still thought he was in a dream, and he didn't want to wake up!

Bill had asked the Registrar to arrange for someone to take a photograph, just to prove to Ballarat Police that he really had gone and got married. He doubted they'd believe him.

They had a meal in a nearby restaurant before heading to a small holiday cottage in Ocean Grove. They had thought a hotel was not for them, they needed to get to know what it was like to live together not just sleep together, and a week in a cottage, just the three of them would be much nicer.

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Bill carried Deb, and Andrew, over the threshold, giggling. They kissed in the hallway, with Andrew between them.

'I'll get the cases.' He said and went back out to the car. As he lifted the luggage out of the boot he took a deep breath. This was going to be a turning point for him. He had lain in his bed in the flat contemplating his first night with Deb, and decided that she had led him this far, she could probably lead him all the way. He felt as nervous as a virgin bride, and told himself he was being silly, nothing could go wrong, he was sure of that, for some reason.

In the cottage Deb had had a quick look around. There was a living/dining room and small kitchen. Tea, milk and sugar had been provided, Bill had arranged that, so she put the kettle on while she looked round the rest of their home for the next few days. There was a room with a cot for Andrew and next door was a room with a double bed, which, for some silly reason, made her smile. The bathroom was across the hall.

She heard the door latch click and looked to see Bill locking the door. She smiled, no escape; for either of them! She put Andrew down and he toddled round exploring his new surroundings.

Bill looked at her and smiled.

'Better unpack.' She said.

'Right, I'll take the cases through then.' He took the luggage through to the bedroom. He looked round , it was a pleasant room, light and attractively furnished. It didn't take him long to unpack his suitcase and put his clothes away.

They sat on the comfortable couch and drank the tea she had made. Bill took his jacket off and loosened his tie. Leaning back he put his arm round Deb and sighed. She smiled, in fact she found it hard not to smile, today of all days.

Andrew was looking sleepy as he rolled about on the floor.

'Better get him to bed,' she moved from her comfortable place, next to Bill, 'and I need to unpack.'

'I'll wash these things.' He offered, and took the tray into the kitchen. It was funny, he hadn't had a beer or whisky since he started courting Deb, the most alcohol he'd had was the glass of wine he and she had had at their dinner after the wedding. He did wonder if he should have brought a bottle of something, more for Dutch courage than anything. But he hadn't, so that was that.

He went back to the living room and sat down on the couch. They'd have to get a new couch at home, that one in the house was even more uncomfortable since they'd started using it for a night time canoodle, and they hadn't got up to that much! Although of late his hands had wandered a little further, just under her skirt a little, maybe inside her blouse occasionally.

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Deb found Andrew's pyjamas and changed him for bed, tucking him up in the cot with his teddy bear beside him. Something familiar, she'd said, so he'd not disturb them in the middle of the night. Bill said he was such an content baby he must be more like Deb than Sean. She'd said she hoped so. He did settle quickly, snuggling down and closing his eyes.

Deb went into the main bedroom and started to put her things away. She knew Bill was a bit nervous about their first night together, he'd admitted his experience with women had not gone well in the past, and he hoped he wouldn't disappoint her. She'd suggested practicing but he said no, with a ring or not at all. She loved him for the way he respected her honour, the woman who'd cheated on her first husband and had a child with another man. She promised she'd never let him down.

She went into the bathroom to put her toiletries away, noticing Bill's toothbrush on the sink, she put hers into the glass next to it. She ran some water into the sink and washed off her makeup. Bill heard her leave the bathroom and decided to use it while it was free, he wasn't used to sharing such facilities.

He went back into the living room and there she was, sitting reading a magazine as natural as you like, but she had changed out of her wedding outfit. She was in a pale blue silk nightdress and negligee. Bill just saw a vision in something fine and light.

'Ah, there you are,' she said, smiling coyly at him, 'wondered where you'd got to.' She patted the couch next to her. He didn't remember crossing the room but there he was sat next to the most gorgeous thing in the world.

'You look beautiful.' He breathed, he'd almost lost his voice. He was used to seeing her in her pyjamas and ordinary robe.

Bill had given her the money for whatever she wanted to wear for the wedding, his gift to her he said.

'I'm glad you like it,' She whispered, 'I hope you don't mind, you gave me enough for the wedding outfit and this. I thought my old pyjamas weren't quite right for tonight.'

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Bill lay on his back staring at the ceiling a broad grin on his face. Deb was curled up naked and asleep next to him. Now he knew where he'd been going wrong, he'd never been in love before. Being in love made all the difference.

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'Mornin' Bill,' Charlie greeted him, 'good holiday?'

'Yes thanks, lovely.' Bill tried to be his usual bland self but was having trouble not smiling.

'Did you take Deb away, only I've not seen her around?' Matthew asked, it wasn't as if everybody didn't know about him and Deb, that he looked after her, that is.

This was the perfect way to break the news.

'Yeah, well, bit difficult to get married if you leave your bride behind.' He remarked and sat down at his desk to go through any paperwork waiting.

There was a stunned silence then uproar, cries of; 'you sly old dog!', 'bloody hell Hobart, you kept that quiet!' and then:

'Congratulations, Bill to you both,'

from Lucien, who was genuinely please for them, shaking his hand.

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So there you are, Bill Hobart married. Here endeth this completely unlikely scenario. The observant of you will notice I stop referring to Danny and Charlie is now in the story. To give some reasonable time for the story to unravel it covers the time Danny was sent to Melbourne and Charlie joined the team. Just in case anyone was wondering if I'd lost the plot, which wouldn't be unusual!

Any reviews or comments, could I have improved it? Thanks for reading it. x


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